<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>The Long-Nosed Spy Who Loved Me by FriendlyFrat_Boy</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26309023">The Long-Nosed Spy Who Loved Me</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/FriendlyFrat_Boy/pseuds/FriendlyFrat_Boy'>FriendlyFrat_Boy</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Usopp X Anybody (he needs it) [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>One Piece</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>1947, Actually serious, Aloof Usopp, Alternate Universe - Spies &amp; Secret Agents, Angst, East Berlin, Fluff, Food Critic Sanji, Historically Accurate, Hugs, Humour, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, MGB, Mutual Pining, Occupied Germany, Plot Twists, SHENANIGANS OCCUR, Slow Burn, Spies &amp; Secret Agents, Spy Usopp, Usopp is a spy, and he mistakes Sanji for his partner-in-crime, everybody needs a hug, not a crack-fic</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 10:22:42</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>17,034</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26309023</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/FriendlyFrat_Boy/pseuds/FriendlyFrat_Boy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Michelin Guide Critics are highly secretive, anonymous characters who must evade recognition and identification at all times. </p><p>Hence why when Sanji, professional chef and critic was approached by Usopp, professional spy extraordinaire, he had no choice but to keep quiet while the charming, long-nosed man proceeded to not only mistake him for a fellow spy, but also insist that he come along on some sort of conspiracy-uncovering. </p><p>At least he could still review all the restaurants along the way. </p><p>Set in East Berlin 1947, the War is over but the tensions have yet to be released. Life was cheap and so it is now. </p><p>----</p><p>-Based off of a prompt of sorts by Terapsine, which is too long to write here. </p><p>Will have lots of romance, idiots in love, and humour. </p><p>And, surprisingly enough, an actual plot! Try and see it and you might catch a glimpse of what's actually going on. </p><p>Yes, this is serious, yes I wrote this seriously.</p><p>Comments are highly appreciated!</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Usopp &amp; Vinsmoke Sanji, Usopp/Vinsmoke Sanji</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Usopp X Anybody (he needs it) [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1923634</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>19</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>57</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The Beratie</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Yo! First chapter here! These will be releasing once every few days, but... yup. There are actually three chapters, but each chapter is separated into Day and Evening, so... yup. Here's the first day, in the first restaurant!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Good, but not worthy of a star. </p>
<p>That was how Sanji would describe the food so lovingly placed before him. It wasn’t anything too impressive to look at, no fancy swivels of sauce, no decorative parsley for contrast… but it was good. The sausage, that is. Slightly reddish in colouration with a surprisingly spicy twist, filled with seasonings most likely lent from the countries down south. </p>
<p>This restaurant, the Beratie, was not the kind of restaurant Sanji would have personally considered worthy of having a Michelin critic visit, but he hadn’t been the one to choose it. The only person who had gotten inside East Berlin to take a look at the restaurants without being riddled with holes by MGB operatives was Sanji’s fellow critic Gin, and he did have a rather… homely taste in food and restaurants. </p>
<p>Then again, all food critics had their personal tastes, making that a particularly easy crime to forgi-,</p>
<p>“Ding ding”</p>
<p>Sanji was briefly brought out of his musings by the jingle of the doorbell. Another customer? In this famine-ravaged hellhole of a city? Indeed, a group of people entered, clad in too-big clothing that hid meagre bones and little flesh. The shifty group of people cautiously stepped through the diner, eventually taking their seat in a stall. One of them carried a rather suspicious-looking briefcase, but…</p>
<p>It’s not like Sanji was here to people-watch. So, instead, he turned back to his food, namely the home-made sausage, the creamed potatoes and-,</p>
<p>“Ding ding ding” </p>
<p>Yet another one? Oh, well, it still wasn’t any of his business. Sanji didn’t even bother to glance up at whoever had entered, and just turned back to his food. But he couldn’t focus on the myriad of tastes lingering on his tongue. No, he just couldn’t help but listen for the steps of whomever had entered.</p>
<p>The steps he couldn’t hear. </p>
<p>There was no sound to be heard, a pure absence of footsteps that confused Sanji to such an extent that the mashed potatoes could just as well have been pulp.</p>
<p>Maybe somebody had left the restaurant? That might have been a good explanation, had Sanji not been alone until just a minute ago when the shifty party had entered. Someone had entered, and he couldn’t hear them. </p>
<p>Well, even so, it didn’t matter to him, so-,</p>
<p>“Ah, are you the accomplice?” Sanji jerked his head up and looked around, only to notice a man sitting right in front of him. Confident. His tan face was shaped into a friendly, open smile, framed by black locks and a chestnut flat cap. Sanji suspiciously eyed the man, recognizing how casually he was dressed. Suspenders and a tie but no jacket to finish it made it look somewhat incomplete, childish, even. </p>
<p>Sanji met his gaze. Dark, calm eyes. The abyssal sea. Murky, cloudy, unclear. Twinklings of… something. Looking right at him, evaluating his every move, his hitching breath, the tremble in his hand…</p>
<p>“-I-... Pardon-?” Sanji stuttered, clasping his fork a little tighter to keep his trembling under control. He’d just been a bit shocked that the man appeared so quickly, that’s all!</p>
<p>The man frowns, scratches his cheek and finally shrugs. “Dude, no need to keep up some persona. There’s nobody listening, see?” saying so, the man gestured toward the mostly empty restaurant. Sanji turned back to him, and couldn’t help but let his brows furrow. </p>
<p>What the hell was he saying? Was he on something? Yeah, alright, let’s ignore him. He had a mission of his own, after all, and that was to ensure that this restaurant truly wasn’t worthy of a star. </p>
<p>Shit, it’s all cold now. Well, that was a criteria as well. Better get to-,</p>
<p>“Those fellas over there are the hit,” the man explained, not even trying to speak quietly. </p>
<p>“-Hit?...” Sanji couldn’t help but ask. He really should have known by this point that humouring this blind-eyed fool was folly. The man’s features lit up slightly, but it was almost too subtle for Sanji to tell. Chin resting in his hand, the man gave a sly smile.</p>
<p>“Oh, yes, our hit! But, uh, not of the, like, killing variety. We’re not going after them, per se, just their-…” the man tilted his head, took a look at the group and jabbed a thumb at their feet, “that briefcase they’ve got.” A competitive grin flashed across his face, but it was gone as soon as Sanji noticed it. “Ah, I almost forgot! The name’s Usopp!”</p>
<p>Sanji stared at the hand stretched out across the table. “Um. I’d rather not tell my name.” </p>
<p>Usopp blinked.</p>
<p>“Oh! Not used to having a partner? Well, that’s alright, but you should really loosen up a bit!” Usopp said, leaning back as he retracted his hand. While the man started rambling about how he’s been on plenty of missions before this and that a lax attitude is everything, Sanji noticed how the group of men were starting to leave. </p>
<p>“Usopp?” The man in question stopped talking. “Are they supposed to leave?” That shut him up good. Usopp’s head swivelled around, fearlessly staring down the casually escaping targets. </p>
<p>“-Shoot! Let’s go!” Luckily, Sanji had finished his food, otherwise he wouldn’t have allowed himself to be dragged outside by the arm. Even so, it wasn’t a pleasant experience. Usopp was clearly stronger than he seemed, and for some reason Sanji himself didn’t really understand, he didn’t struggle or object. Something was bringing him into the open air outside, and it wasn’t just Usopp. Or maybe it was just Usopp? </p>
<p>Maybe. Hopefully not. </p>
<p>Well outside, Usopp finally let go of Sanji. They were standing just outside the Beratie, but Usopp had somehow dragged them a little to the side, into the shadowy alleys. If Sanji wanted to escape, to leave this weird conspiracy behind, this would have been the moment. But he didn’t. He just stared into the eyes of Usopp, waiting for him to speak. </p>
<p>“Alright, so, just follow me, yeah? You… you do know how to sneak, right-?” Sanji was about to shake his head, but Usopp waved it off before he could admit that he wasn’t criminal in any way, shape or form. “You know what? Forget it, I didn’t say anything. Sorry for doubting you, partner. Let’s get to it!”</p>
<p>It might have been a sweet sentiment if Usopp hadn’t been wrong. </p>
<p>In the end, Sanji just sort of followed Usopp while he stalked the group they’d seen earlier. This was probably a crime, but… it was thrilling. Sure, it was thrilling to be a kind-of secret food critic too, but this… this was exactly something that a spy would do.</p>
<p>...Wait…</p>
<p>Was-, was that what this was? Oh no. Oh hell no. </p>
<p>Sanji shook his head violently, banishing all such thoughts that this situation might actually be serious. Nope. Not happening. The mere idea that a spy, any spy from any country could be stupid enough to mistake a cook for his partner, that a spy could be THIS stupid repulsed Sanji too much to accept that it might be true. </p>
<p>“-Everything alright, partner?” Usopp asked, briefly stopping to glance back at his “partner”. Although his words were kind, for some reason, Sanji couldn’t see any warmth in his eyes. </p>
<p>“Oh, yeah! Sorry, I was having some uncouth thoughts. Pay me no heed.” Sanji tightened his tie (only to remember he had a clip on it, so he didn’t even need to tighten it at all) and evaded stepping on a half-rotting rat. </p>
<p>Usopp scratched his chin, frowning slightly. “Well, if you say so. Just don’t get us busted, alright?”</p>
<p>Sanji nodded, and they continued. Before this, Sanji hadn’t known East Berlin had this many sketchy alleyways to walk through. Neither did he know that they smelt this bad either. Jesus Christ, that half-eaten rat back there didn’t even put a dent in this foul odor! Despite his unusually long nose, Usopp didn’t seem bothered by this in the least.</p>
<p>Fishing out a napkin from his back pocket, Sanji held it up to his nose in hopes of keeping out the smell, but he was sure all it did was soak his beloved napkin in alley-smell. </p>
<p>They stopped. Usopp gave a shushing sound, and held a hand behind his back to stop Sanji from taking another step. “What’s wro-,” Sanji was about to say something, but he noticed their “hit” had stopped as well. They were meeting with someone. One of the men in the group they’d followed held the briefcase tightly before stepping towards the unknown exchange, reached out the briefcase, and…</p>
<p>And then Usopp slowly, discreetly, pulled out a gun, pointed it at the “hit” doing the exchange, and…</p>
<p>“-Holy shit!” Sanji exclaimed, stumbling back at the exposed firearm. Usopp’s head snapped around, face twisted in surprise and anger, but the jig was already up. </p>
<p>“-The situation’s been compromised!” one of the hits exclaimed, bringing the entire group’s attention to Sanji and Usopp. The briefcase was shoved in the arms of the youngest and most agile member, who immediately took to flight with such force that his flat cap flew right off his head.</p>
<p>The rest of the members drew handguns from the insides of their coats, and Usopp retreated around a corner before they could get any bullets flying. </p>
<p>Sanji gasped as bangs like that of clattering pots and pans rang out, chipping at the bricks of the corner they hid behind. A strong hand gripped Sanji’s shoulder and he looked up, his terrified eyes meeting the calm, slightly annoyed eyes of Usopp. The spy - he could have been nothing but that very thing - smiled calmly and gave Sanji a pat on the shoulder. </p>
<p>There was a brief interlude in the gunfire, and during this short moment, Usopp threw himself out of their hiding-place, proudly raising his handpiece and firing it without a moment of hesitation. </p>
<p>Sanji covered his ears, but it didn’t help in the least. </p>
<p>Lights flashed in front of his eyes, so he closed them, too. It was too loud and too bright and too terrible and Sanji wished he was back home in Grasse making food for his brothers and parents instead of this damn hellhole of a city. He should never have agreed to come here. There was a reason nobody dared enter East Berlin, or even East Germany at all for that matter. </p>
<p>After only a moment, it all stopped, the lights and the sounds and everything became quiet. But Sanji kept his eyes and ears shut tight. He was only roused from his cowering when a hand tapped his shoulder.</p>
<p>“Hey. Hey. Heeeeeyy.” Sanji peeked an eye open. Usopp was standing over him, perfectly cool and alright, and once he noticed that Sanji had noticed him, he gave a relieved smile and scratched his neck. “-Was this your first shoot-out-?” Sanji nodded slowly. Usopp smiled sadly. “...Sorry. I should’ve prepared you. This really is your first mission, huh?”</p>
<p>Saying so, Usopp grabbed a hold of Sanji's trembling hand and dragged him up on two feet. </p>
<p>And then he let him go. Without Usopp as an anchor, Sanji stumbled forward, emerging from their protective corner in a much less intimidating way than Usopp had. ‘Round the corner, he saw a massacre.</p>
<p>Minced meat. </p>
<p>Before Sanji had become a highly secretive critic for the illustrious Michelin Guide, he’d been nothing but an exceptionally gifted cook. Taught in the ways of soup-making and sous-vide cooking, and… and butchering. He’d never been forced to kill an animal, thankfully, but he’d become an expert at taking it apart. The bones can be used for broth. The blood can be boiled to create soup or sausages. And the brains…</p>
<p>Cervelle de veau. Traditional cooking. Foreign food. There were so many uses.</p>
<p>The body was a miracle of ingredients, all of value, and now…</p>
<p>Now he could no longer see them as that. Bodies littered with scattered, imprecise shots. A dead hand clenched and unclenched. Grey matter and red blood mingled on the filthy streets alongside roaches and flies, already brought out to feast.</p>
<p>Sanji could feel his lunch coming back up. </p>
<p>Usopp peeked out from the corner, took one look at Sanji’s pale complexion and instantly became worried. “Hey, partner-?”</p>
<p>Sanji expelled the contents of his stomach behind a trash can. </p>
<p>A hand was placed on his back. The hand of a man. The hand of a murderer. The hand of a spy. </p>
<p>Sanji attempted to shrug off the hand, to show his umbrage to the situation, but in his trembling weakness, he could barely even try. He was swept back into the bystreet they had all come from by Usopp, stumbling over his heavy feet. Out of sight, out of mind. Except, when he thought about what he’d just seen, he could yet see a still, extremely detailed image. The random shots with no rhyme or reason. The brain and blood on the pavement. The-, no… no, he hadn’t seen a briefcase. The briefcase.</p>
<p>“Where-, did,, did he-?”</p>
<p>“Yeah, he escaped. Kind of a shame, too, but I got the others!” Usopp said triumphantly. Even if Usopp obviously didn’t like how that kid ran away, it made Sanji happy knowing he wasn’t another one in the pile of meat. Another victim. That did raise the question, exactly what was this situation? Usopp didn’t seem to have any noticeable accent of any sort, not British or German or Russian or Bulgarian or Spanish, so… Where exactly was he from? Was this an international crime, or-?</p>
<p>Usopp snapped his fingers. “Look, buddy, I’ll get this all cleaned up, so you just head to the hotel in the meanwhile, yeah? The Going Merry? I’ve got a table booked, so don’t worry. I’ll be there in an hour or so.” Sanji slowly turned his head, mouth opening and closing fruitlessly, only to finally say:</p>
<p>“-Y-, yeah, okay, I’ll… I’ll be there,” he promised. And then, he walked away, leaving Usopp to… to the “clean-up”.</p>
<p>For a while, Sanji just sort of wandered around. After seeing such a sight, he couldn’t honestly say that he feared East Berlin any longer. Or maybe he feared it more now, knowing it housed such monsters and such bodies?</p>
<p>The Going Merry. Such an odd name for a hotel. Not that he was going there. </p>
<p>-No, if there was anyplace Sanji wasn’t going, it would be the Going Merry. He already had a room in another hotel, one that his superiors had provided him with, so… And even if he did choose to go to the Going Merry, what the hell was he supposed to do? Wait around for some mass-murdering spy to pop up and share a drink with him? </p>
<p>Sanji could feel a tender blush assault his cheeks. Yeah, right. Like he’d share a drink with that dumbass spy who couldn’t even find his own partner. Sure. </p>
<p>Like that’s ever gonna happen.</p>
<p>Sanji fished a cigarette out of his jacket and took a puff. The smoke quickly dissipated in the chilly early-evening air. The streets were almost barren, and any green that might have been there before the war, no, the wars, had thoroughly died by this point. Not that the Soviet overlords had bothered replacing any of them. Not after the Battle of Berlin.</p>
<p>If West Germany was in a rut, what kind of state was its eastern neighbour in?</p>
<p>Sanji gnawed on his bitter cigarette. What the hell is happening in here? What kind of conspiracy could a spy have any business uncovering?...</p>
<p>For some reason, Sanji could feel his feet carrying him back to his hotel. But he could tell he wasn’t there to check in. No, after just a few moments of showing identification and climbing stairs and grabbing his meagre luggage, he stood back outside, holding a little piece of paper that the receptionist had given him.</p>
<p> A little piece of paper that detailed how to get to the Going Merry. </p>
<p>This was the stupidest thing he had ever done.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Beratie, Evening</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>While standing outside the Going Merry, Sanji quickly realized that he didn’t do enough actual research on this East Berlin business. All he knew was that Gin had stayed at the other hotel and thought it was cosy, and therefore anybody who visited East Berlin absolutely had to stay at it as well. </p><p>In hindsight, the Going Merry seemed like a much nicer place. Of the expensive variety. </p><p>That was the first thing he noticed once he got inside. Expensive, velvety carpet met his feet, and he stood in the mouth of the fine hotel, staring up at the ceiling, where a bunch of trees and birds and things were painted. A funny little homage to that famous chapel, but it did drive home the fact that this was an actual fancy place with actual fancy people.</p><p>“-Sir? May I help you?” a feminine voice asked, drawing Sanji out of his thoughts. </p><p>Sanji snapped to attention with a wide smile. “Oh! Mademoiselle, forgive my ignorance of your existence, allow me to plant a kiss on your sweet ha-,”</p><p>“Sir, if you haven’t got a reservation, I must ask you to leave,” she said bluntly from behind a table. She was dressed as properly as a woman can be, holding a list of names and dates, a frown marring her beautiful face. Sanji unhappily backed off, unable to show his womanizing skills, but it might be just as well. He was actually there for a reason, so he had no need to smooth-talk her into submission.</p><p>Though, it was quite unprofessional to let out a bit of french at the sight of her. Old habits die hard. “Ah, I’ve got a reservation, with… with a man called Usopp?”</p><p>The woman gave a look at the list, and then nodded, stepping out from behind her little desk to show Sanji to a door. </p><p>“Right through here, sir. A porter will bring your baggage to your room and you’ll find the restaurant beyond that door.”</p><p>Sanji nodded and followed the directions. A man came and took his luggage, another opened the door, and yet a third man, clearly a waiter by the looks of it, brought him into a large, fancy dining hall. It was hardly full, but it wasn’t empty, either. Men in fine tuxedos and opera shoes and women in dresses and fine jewellery littered the place, chattering pleasantly about whatever rich people talked about. </p><p>Sanji felt positively out of place.</p><p>Sure, being in a fancy restaurant was nothing new to him since before all this critic business he’d spent most of his days at a Michelin starred restaurant himself. But once he actually became a critic, he’d spend most of his days in rickety little motels to avoid suspicion. This was a welcome change of pace, but in his old, worn, second-hand suit, he felt tottery when compared to these lofty dames and gentlemen. </p><p>Even so, he was led to a fine table for two and promptly left there, without so much as refreshments. Three pairs of glasses, three pairs of cutlery, three plates… Ambitious. </p><p>Considering that they let that snivelling mop of a spy have enough money to hire a room in a hotel such as they, they really must have quite the budget. Maybe America? It would explain his tan complexion… but not his lack of accent. One can simply choose not to learn an accent when taught a completely new language, but your own mother-tongue simply can’t be discarded. </p><p>Sanji didn’t have to wait for long until his dark-haired “date” arrived. Smiling. </p><p>Somehow, at some point, Usopp had actually gotten hold of a jacket, in turn hiding his suspenders and making him look, well… actually quite dashing, if Sanji was to be completely honest. He wasn’t wearing a hat either, and this exposed the fact that his hair was actually quite long, tied up in the back to create a draping tail. </p><p>Sanji felt a faint blush spread across his cheeks and he mentally punched himself until it went away. Keep it together, Sanji! </p><p>“I didn’t make you wait long, did I?” Usopp asked with a smirk as he sat down, unbuttoning his jacket as he did. The second he sat down, a waiter approached, a shark smelling blood, and presented the both of them with menus before disappearing with a polite grin. Usopp merely glanced through the menu while Sanji took the time to actually read what was on it. </p><p>High german cuisine with a few french dishes mixed in. Right.</p><p>As tempted as Sanji felt to order something French to soothe his frayed nerves, he chose instead to go for something simpler, something more robust. A Wienerschnitzel art, with a Gewürtzraminer wine, per Usopp’s recommendations. Say what you will about his dwindling intellect, but at least he had some sense when it came to fine wine. The waiter confiscated their menus and disappeared elsewhere, leaving the two alone. </p><p>“You still haven’t told me your name,” Usopp said, that lax smile still lingering on his full lips. Sanji coughed and glanced elsewhere. He had been wise not to tell this guy so much as his first name, so-, “if you don’t say anything, I’ll just call you twirly-brow~”</p><p>Sanji sputtered. “Y-, you! Conniving little thief! Why I oughta-,,”</p><p>“Hey, cool down, twirly-brows! Don’t upset your stomach!” Usopp teased, throwing up both hands in faux surrender. Sanji seethed, gnawing on his lip. That bastard went for the jugular. How the hell did he know his one weakness-?</p><p>“It-, just, just call me Sanji. Okay?” Sanji said, crossing his arms as a rebellious little blush invaded his scowling cheeks. His eyebrow twitched. The longer he looked over at the wall instead of at Usopp, the deeper his blush grew, until he had no choice but to return whatever glance Usopp was giving him. “Yeah, I know it’s-,”</p><p>Usopp’s eyes were wide and pretty and shimmering. “-Huh-?” </p><p>Usopp pretended to wipe away a tear. “Such a pretty name for such a pretty man. Ever thought about being a woman?” That last comment set Sanji’s face ablaze. </p><p>W-, what was he saying?? At a restaurant, no less?? Have-, have he no shame?!</p><p>And then, Usopp smiled, a full-face full-heart smile that made the inferno in Sanji’s heart simmer down into a smouldering pyre. Sanji muttered something, and Usopp broke out into a peal of laughter like that of a dying seagull. It was such an odd laugh, so unlike anything Sanji had expected of him that it soothed his heart better than any liquid confidence ever could. </p><p>An odd laugh for an odd man. </p><p>The second Sanji made that remark, a waiter suddenly materialized out of thin air, carrying a pair of plates and a bottle of wine. Their food was identical, and for some reason, this made Sanji happy. Sharing the same food with someone. Was-, wasn’t that what lo-, lovers did?...</p><p>Keep-, keep it together, Sanji! This isn’t a date, it’s strictly work! You aren’t here to fa-, fall in… to do anything like that! Just keep your eyes on the prize!</p><p>Sanji dug into his food with a little more ferocity than he should have, what with his position as a highly respected food critic and all. Nomch. Hm. This is… actually pretty good! The breading was crispy and flavourful but not too strongly seasoned to take away from the lamb itself, which was soft and moist and-,</p><p>-and Usopp had to love this! </p><p>Sanji excitedly cast a glance at his criminal date, his heart soaring, only to have it slapped right back down into the pavement by the sight before him. Usopp was salting his food. Without even tasting it first.</p><p>“Hey! Usopp, you can’t-, you can’t just do that!”</p><p>Usopp gave Sanji a blank look. “-Do what?” A shake of the shaker. </p><p>“No, stop that! Taste your food before salting it, you crass cactus-flinger!!” Sanji cried, reaching out to grab the shaker from his hands, only to have the spy lean back, preemptively removing the salt shaker from Sanji’s grasp. “Y-, you-!”</p><p>“Heyy, if you want some salt you’ve gotta ask nicely~!” Usopp teased right back, dangling the salt right in front of Sanji’s nose.</p><p>Sanji growled and made a few attempts to grab the salt, but every time he tried he was left with a fistful of nothing. All previous fears of not fitting in cast aside, he leaned over the table, grabbing for the shaker, his irritation growing every time he almost had it, until-,</p><p>He got it! He grabbed the shaker out of-,</p><p>No, wait. Usopp’s still holding it. Then, how could Sanji hold it as well? Unless…</p><p>Sanji glanced at his hand. Holding Usopp’s hand. Holding the salt shaker. They were holding hands. Oh. Oh my God. </p><p>Sanji jerked his hand back, letting go of both the salt shaker and Usopp, falling back into his chair, rambling excuses under his breath. But he didn’t receive any response. Usopp wasn’t saying anything. Terror flooded and drowned Sanji’s quickly beating heart. Had he angered him? He hadn’t meant to touch him like that, so… </p><p>He glanced up. Just to take a peek. Survey the damage. See how angry he…</p><p>Wasn’t. </p><p>The cold-blooded killer, agent of his government, was frozen in place. Staring at his hand, still holding the salt-shaker. Not a single feature of his tan face showed any form of anger. No, in those round eyes of his, Sanji noticed something else. Something clear and pristine and honest. Those murky depths, cloudy and untrue had parted, showing…</p><p>A man. A trembling, uncertain, nervous little man. </p><p>A faint blush grazed his dark cheeks. </p><p>“-Usopp?...” Sanji prodded, and immediately noticed how that sudden clear pool in Usopp’s eyes was covered back up, a nervous smile touching his features.</p><p>“Hahah, yeah, I… I guess I’ll skip out on the salt…” Usopp mumbled back, placing the salt back on the table, right beside the untouched pepper.</p><p>During the course of the dinner, Usopp didn’t reach for the salt even once. Didn’t even glance at it. The only moment that even so much as reminded Sanji of what had happened was when Usopp shot him a questioning glance while holding the customary lemon slice, and Sanji nodded. Yes, Usopp, you’re allowed to eat lemon. </p><p>After an hour or so, they had both finished their meals, the waiter came over and took their plates and left them free to go, without even having to pay a bill at the table. Might have been some spy-stuff Sanji didn’t want to think about. But just as he was heading upstairs to find their room…</p><p>“Hey, uh, S-, Sanji?” </p><p>Sanji turned around. Usopp was standing below him, on the first step of the staircase, glancing up at him uncertainly. “-Yeah?”</p><p>“Will you, um, join me outside for a moment?”</p><p>Why, if that isn’t one of the most ominous things Usopp had told him today alone. Might this be where his journey ends? Executed by a secret agent in an alleyway in East Berlin? More intriguing than choking on chicken, but he kind of didn’t want to die to begin with.</p><p>...But it’s not like he could say no, either. For as harsh as Usopp had been today, his hand had been, well… soft. Warm. A touch Sanji hadn’t realized he needed. </p><p>“-Alright,” Sanji said, and followed him outside.</p><p>The cool night breeze caressed Sanji’s face like a Scandinavian lover. Looking at Usopp, Sanji couldn’t help but wonder how the hell he could stand this late-autumn cold without so much as a jacket or a coat to keep the breeze at bay. Before he could ask the question on his mind, Usopp started walking, prompting Sanji to follow along. </p><p>If this was to be an execution, it was a slow one. </p><p>The scarcely populated streets were lit by the dimmest possible lights, and the few cars (a bunch of Trabants, if Sanji remembered correctly) slunk past, leaving only a gust of wind and a trail of light in their wake. After a short walk in silence, Usopp came to a stop in front of a boulevard populated by barren trees and two roads. </p><p>“This here is Friedrichstrasse. Not much to look at this time of year, but… y’know, kind of pretty,” Usopp said before continuing his walk. Sanji followed him. </p><p>Every few minutes, Usopp would stop, point at some innocuous detail Sanji wouldn’t have noticed on his own and explain what it was. They’d continue walking, and the silence between them quickly warmed up. Sanji’s anxiety soothed considerably, and if he was to be honest, the fact that he was talking to a (most likely) foreign spy completely slipped his mind. He was just listening to someone talk. And that was all he needed right now.</p><p>They reached a square. A large, greek-styled gate loomed over the two, a bronze chariot drawn by four horses mounted above it. Sanji turned to Usopp expectantly, hoping for a brief but informative description of the impressive monument. </p><p>He was met with silence. Usopp wasn’t gazing up in awe, no, his eyes were low, focused on what was below the fantastical gate.</p><p>A wall. A wall that stretched from the right to the left, high and covered in barbed wire and guarded by armed personnel. </p><p>The hopeful gate was sealed shut by authoritarian forces. </p><p>Usopp looked up, and their eyes met. His eyes were that clear, honest way again, and through that transparent honesty, Sanji could tell that their thoughts on what this wall represented were one and the same. Usopp shook his head, but before Sanji could vocalize his question regarding what exactly the impressive thing they were looking at was, Usopp took him by the hand and dragged him into some shadowy alley.</p><p>Oh. Oh. Right, he was getting executed, wasn’t he?</p><p>Sanji felt a cold shiver run down his spine as he was effectively cornered, back pressed against a brick wall, Usopp standing over him. He tried to swallow his saliva and fears, but it didn’t work too well. A nervous smile tugged at his cheeks, but it didn’t become anything. </p><p>“I-, I-, uh-,,” Sanji stuttered, but he was silenced by a mere glance. </p><p>Usopp took a step closer, his thick, seductive lips pressing together as his face neared Sanji’s. A strong hand took a soft hold of Sanji’s face, brushing the blond locks covering his lips off before leaning all the way in and planting his lips on his. A kiss. </p><p>And then, it was gone. Usopp leaned back out, face twisting in disgust and anger, not at Sanji, he could tell so much, but at himself. “Good God,” he muttered under his breath, “what the hell am I doing? This is… this is extremely unprofessional, will you forgiv-,”</p><p>Sanji took a bold step forward, cupped Usopp’s face in his hands, and stole a kiss right back. </p><p>The body in his hands tensed up and shivered and he could feel Usopp sputtering and trembling in his grip, but he melted like an icicle in July anyways. Sanji smiled, feeling his lips on Usopp’s, feeling the wrongness and revelling in it. He couldn’t deny it. He felt more than he should. But it felt good.</p><p>They unhooked from each other, leaned back, and looked into each others eyes. Doubt, uncertainty, pleasure… Honesty. </p><p>“We really shouldn’t-,”</p><p>Sanji silenced him with a kiss once more. He wrapped his arms around the spy’s midsection, making note of how hard his body was. Every part was toned to metallic perfection. It was the kind of body that hurt. The angular kind you’d think would prick you if you touched it. </p><p>So how come this body, this hurting body, held him so tenderly?</p><p>Their only witness was the moon, but it was a witness Sanji didn’t mind having. </p><p>The evening passed, and they soon returned to the Going Merry, where they entered their room, finding their luggage balanced against a single, shared bed. A few hours ago, Sanji might have fervently opposed such a thing, but now… not so much. </p><p>If Sanji brought little luggage, Usopp practically carried an oversized wallet. But if it had everything Usopp needed, so be it. </p><p>Speaking of Usopp, the man was currently fishing his gun out of… somewhere. On closer inspection, the pistol was certainly old. Some parts seemed newer than others, showing it had been repaired. The oldest part, the handle, had a deep gash in, the kind that can’t be replaced. The mere sight of the blasted thing set Sanji’s hair on edge, but it seemed Usopp wasn’t planning on actually using it. Instead, he sat down by the table and grabbed a cleaning kit from his bag.</p><p>Sanji sat down on the other side of the table. Usopp sent him periodic glances, mostly rather confused or suspicious, but nothing concrete.</p><p>“...Didja ever fight in the war?” Usopp suddenly asked, gazing fondly at the pistol in his hands.  </p><p>Sanji furrowed his brows at the odd question. “No. I was… on a mission.”</p><p>Usopp chuckled. “Seriously? With how you reacted back in the alley, I kind of doubt that.”</p><p>“I-, I was just taken off-guard!”</p><p>“Oh, really now? I’ll bet you haven’t even got a gun!” Usopp teased, probably not knowing he was right.</p><p>“I-, that’s,, I’m not unarmed or something! I do carry a knife!” Sanji retaliated, proud that he’d remembered his expensive knife-set. Usopp gave him a look, frowned, scratched his chin and burst out in full-blown, roaring laughter, going so far as to slap the table in humour.</p><p>“H-, hey!!” Sanji protested in rage, face flushed, but he had to agree. It was kind of funny. </p><p>In the end, he could do nothing but join Usopp in his laughter.</p><p>And so, the evening ended. The two crawled into bed, and Sanji felt ready to take on whatever mission Usopp is on, together. As… something.  </p><p>At least Usopp wasn’t a heavy snorer.</p><p>…</p><p>When Sanji woke up, the bed was cold and the room was pitch black. He heaved his tired body out of the double-bed, fumbling after someone he might know, but he found no one. Nobody answered when he called out to Usopp. </p><p>Left with no other solution, Sanji lit the bed-side candle and stumbled through the unknown room. His luggage was still there, and so was Usopp’s, but… his gun was gone. The one he’d kept under his pillow for safety. It wasn’t there, and neither was Usopp.</p><p>He should’ve just gone to sleep. </p><p>But instead, he felt drawn to what little things the spy had left behind. Cleaning supplies aside, Sanji opened up the small bag, fueled by pure curiosity. A need to know. A need to get to know the man he kissed better. </p><p>A radio, a remote controller, a wallet, and… a uniform. </p><p>Sanji fished it out, remembering what Usopp had asked. If he’d been in the war. Yeah, right, he’d avoided that death-sentence like the plague and was all the happier for it. Apparently, Usopp hadn’t done so. </p><p>Sanji couldn’t say he recognized the uniform in the least. It seemed to be a long, grey coat, with a warm hat to go with it. Maybe he was Finnish or Swedish or some other Scandinavia-,</p><p>And then he saw the medals. </p><p>There was no lack of them. Golden medals, silver medals… Seeing them might have made Sanji a bit proud just to know the man who had earned them. Were it not for one single little detail. </p><p>One little thing that many of the medals proudly shared.</p><p>A little red star.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>-And that's the first twist!</p><p>Attentive history-buffs may have noticed that the Berlin wall certainly didn't exist in 1947, but was only erected in like '63 or something. I had forgotten all about this when I wrote this, so... As far as I know, this is the only and only mistake in terms of like, historical accuracy. </p><p>Either way, see y'all later, and don't forget to comment! It keeps me alive!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. The Orbit</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Hey. Hey. Hey. Wake up. Hey. It’s morning. I know where they’re gonna be!” a voice said from far away, prodding at Sanji to wake him up. </p><p>Mngh. Just, just five more minutes…</p><p>“Heeeeey. Sanji!” and with those words, someone jabbed at Sanji’s chest, poking it a bit too hard to ignore. </p><p>“Gck!” Sanji grunted, forcing his body to sit up so quickly that he slammed his head into someone else's, namely, now that he had an eye or two open, Usopp. The soviet spy stumbled back, clutching his quickly reddening head.</p><p>A few paces from the bed, Usopp came to a stop, giving Sanji a scowl and a glare. “-Hey! What the hell was that for?!”</p><p>“You-, why’d you wake me up at this hour, damn you?!” Sanji asked. It seems a skull-to-skull connection was enough to get him lucid enough to realize the sun hadn’t even come up yet. This in itself wouldn’t be much of a strange sight, but Sanji was used to getting up around, oh, ten or eleven, right in time for lunch without the need of a pesky breakfast. His hours were flexible, and he took every advantage of it. </p><p>Usopp didn’t.</p><p>“And after I brought you to bed, too! How mean, Sanji! You’re a meanie!” Usopp scolded dramatically, clutching his heart in pretend despair as a crocodile-tear touched his cheek. What an actor. </p><p>Sanji clutched the covers closer, his lower lip trembling. “You-, you-,, you what??” For some reason, Sanji’s mind, drunk on morning rays, had decided to get upset not at Usopp’s sarcastic display, but instead at the fact that Usopp, according to himself, “brought him to bed”. An ill choice of words. Sanji remembered a lot of things from last night that made his face redden, but nothing about being b-, brought to bed…</p><p>Usopp gave Sanji a blank stare. “Huh? I what?”</p><p>“Brought-, brought me to bed…” Sanji recited in a mumble, crawling deeper under his covers to hide his shameful flushed face.</p><p>Usopp’s eyebrows squashed together before soon rising in realization, bringing with it a light blush. “Oh. Oh! I-, I-,, no! No-no, not like that, I just-, when I came back, I found you on the floor, and you were sleeping, so I just… Y’know, brought you into bed-? So you’d sleep better? Bad posture is bad for your back?”</p><p>Oh. Ohhhh, okay, that makes more sense. “Sorry, um. what time is it?” Sanji asked, letting his covers fall a bit.</p><p>“Uhhh, around seven, I think? It’s kinda late, really, but I poured us something refreshing to wake up to!” Usopp answered, his face lighting up. Refreshments. Seven in the morning. How… how long had Usopp been out for-? He hadn’t been here earlier tonight, but… A look at the man in question ensured Sanji that this man had not slept a single wink. </p><p>If anything, he looked a lot like someone who would willingly let himself be run over by a steamroller.</p><p>Whatever part of his body Sanji looked at, there was just the slightest tremble. His eyes, although wide and “energetic” had that sunken-in quality, rimmed with dark circles that made his true state of mind all too apparent. Good thing he’d made some coffee or something for them. If not for him, then for Sanji. </p><p>Usopp slinked off into some other part of the hotel room while Sanji rubbed his eyes. Yeah, he needed refreshment alright. </p><p>Soon, Usopp’s light, almost unnoticeable footsteps returned. Sanji didn’t even look up, and just held out a hand, receiving a mug in return. He put the porcelain against his lips, took a sip, and promptly spat out the whiskey he’d just inhaled.</p><p>“W-w-w-what the fuck?!” Sanji exclaimed, turning to Usopp incredulously. This wasn’t even an Irish coffee, just-,, just Irish! Plain Irish!! “Are you trying to have me succumb by cardiac arrest?!”</p><p>Usopp took a deep swig of his own mug. “Wassup?” That’s what he asked. After giving someone a mug-full of whiskey at seven in the morning. </p><p>Sanji stammered. “I-, you-,, that’s it, I’m getting up.” The taste of harsh alcohol lingered on his tongue, burning his upper throat. Sheesh. He couldn’t even have chosen something slightly less alcoholic like a plain champagne or something. Just went straight for the fires of hell.</p><p>...Then again, by the looks of it, Usopp needed some hellfire just to stay awake. </p><p>“...You didn’t stay up all night, did you-?” Sanji asked, throwing his covers off. </p><p>Usopp squinted, scratched his chin, and shrugged. Right. That could mean pretty much anything at this point, couldn’t it? By the looks of it, Usopp had been out all night, doing… something. While Sanji slept. And woke up. And...</p><p>...He didn’t want to think about it. </p><p>Hum. What had Usopp even been out doing last night, anyhoo? Probably a lot of spy-stuff, but as his “partner”, Sanji was supposed to know that kind of stuff. According to himself, that is.</p><p>“Hey, uh, Usopp? What were you doing last night?” Sanji asked, buttoning his light blue dress shirt. </p><p>Usopp gave him an odd, conflicted look before suddenly lighting up in excitement. “Ooh! Yeah, that’s the thing! I know where they’ll be today!”</p><p>Sanji slipped a pair of cufflinks into his sleeves. “-That so?”</p><p>“Oh, yes! They’ll be at this weird restaurant, uh… the Orbit, I think? Yeah, at like 8. For breakfast. Kind of weird that they’re always meeting in restaurants, right? Shouldn’t they at least try to, y’know, mix it up? Try a museum, go for a walk in a park, that kind of thing?” </p><p>For the first time since Sanji had met Usopp, he actually noted the hints of a dialect in Usopp’s voice. It was subtle, so subtle that unless one knew beforehand that he was from the USSR, a secret member of the MGB, they might have assumed he was a fluent Englishman. Not so. </p><p>This fact upset Sanji a little. Not that Usopp was a Russian, no, not that at all. Although that was a clear cause for concern, Sanji felt more upset, a little hurt, even, that Usopp hadn’t said something about it. That he hadn’t even told him. </p><p>And a little at himself, for not noticing before. </p><p>“In other words, partner dear, we’ve gotta get going!”</p><p>“Wait, wha-,”</p><p>Sanji had barely even gotten his coat on before he was dragged outside. He could’ve sworn Usopp hadn’t finished his Irish-, oh, no, wait, he’s chugging it. Jesus Christ. </p><p>Mere minutes later and the two stood before a rather inconspicuous, normal-looking diner. A small sign outside said that some dishes might be off the menu due to the famine, but that didn’t hinder them from entering.</p><p>Huh. Wait a moment. </p><p>Sanji fished his notebook out of the inner-pocket of his jacket and turned a few pages, soon coming to the list of restaurants he was supposed to visit. Lone Island, Germanic 66 and the Beratie were all crossed over, leaving him with two last restaurants, one of which was… the Orbit. Sanji glanced back up at the facade in front of them. Yup, that’s the one. </p><p>And then he was promptly dragged inside and placed by a table. A waitress came around and they ordered food, each getting different kinds this time around. Usopp seemed to be eyeing the salt shaker a bit weirdly, but it was probably just Sanji’s imagination. Let’s just hope his taste-buds had woken up by now, otherwise he’d be judging a potentially star-worthy restaurant using faulty equipment. </p><p>Soon enough, the food arrived, and Sanji noticed unhappily that Usopp had at some point called for a glass of brandy to go along with it. </p><p>Sure, a fitting drink will strengthen any dish of quality, but not when the drink is of the fancy, strong sort that is best enjoyed on its own. Normally, this would be a sin worthy of being called out, but going by the way Usopp was gazing at the pale red liquid, he needed it. And Sanji couldn’t deny him that.</p><p>Sanji took a bite of his food and tried to focus, but his thoughts kept wandering back to what he’d seen last night.</p><p>Medals. Shiny, red, star-shaped medals, fit for an honoured soldier of the USSR. </p><p>If he took the time to find one, Sanji was sure he could locate a book or something that described what medals were given for what. Then he could figure out how Usopp had earned them, maybe learn a bit more about him, get a bit close-,</p><p>Sanji took a sip of his water, swallowing his thoughts.</p><p>-If he knew what the Soviet Union had recognized Usopp for, he could know what kind of threat Usopp was to France. To say the USSR and France were allies was a… technically correct way to put it, but Sanji knew better than that. A spy is a danger to any country, no matter the alliances in place. It was hard to think that Usopp, this aloof, sleep-deprived shitty long-nose could possibly be a threat to anyone, but…</p><p>The USSR didn’t give medals for nothing. Suspicious. </p><p>For all Sanji knew, Usopp could be here on anti-France business, and that was all Sanji needed to know. </p><p>...In other words, this was no longer just a personal matter between Sanji and a-, a flirt, but instead a matter of national security. Whatever that meant. </p><p>That’s a good excuse, right? For Sanji to follow along with whatever Usopp was doing? Yup. He wasn’t doing this because he was feeling all fluttery, no way! This was a matter of National Security! With a capital N and S!</p><p>Sanji bit down on a piece of crispy, yet soft bread with buttery tones, and gave Usopp a glance. The Soviet spy was eating like a feral wolf. Sanji felt his heart beat just a tad bit faster. Right. National security. </p><p>As Sanji changed directions and put some butter on his (very tasty) bread, the door behind him slid open, and Sanji didn't even have to see them to know who they were. </p><p>The hit.</p><p>“Get down!” Usopp barked, and Sanji didn’t even have time to understand what he was supposed to be doing before a hand slammed into the back of his head, forcefully pressing him down just as a bullet whizzed by, hitting the vinyl couch Usopp had been sitting at only a moment ago. </p><p>What was-,</p><p>A series of bangs rang out, and sometime during this, the table they’d been eating at was flipped over, most likely by Usopp, to act as a sort of make-shift cover. Half-eaten dishes made with love and care and professionalism crashed to the floor, rendering the little food East Berlin had to offer inedible. </p><p>Back against the table, Sanji could only stare at Usopp, wide-eyed and disbelieving. </p><p>How had they been discovered? And this quickly, too? </p><p>While Sanji was thinking of such trivialities, Usopp craned his neck and body over their makeshift cover, sending lead flying. All the while, Sanji bit down on his fingernails. He wasn’t holding his ears shut, nor was he covering his eyes, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t trying to keep it all out. </p><p>Mere seconds passed, just a few moments and the bullets stopped flying, now littering either the table or this formerly pristine restaurant instead of the air. </p><p>Usopp hopped out of cover with the confidence of a warrior, grabbed Sanji by the wrist and ran outside while his “partner” surveyed the damage. Several windows had been shot, leaving holes and cracks. Two or three couches were pristine and untouched. The rest were not. Even the floor had bullet holes in it. </p><p>Five seconds, and a restaurant had been set aflame. Five seconds and a civilian dream had been crushed. In a city like this, recovering from this would be impossible. </p><p>And to think it had almost gotten a star. </p><p>It all made Sanji’s heart ache.</p><p>...Why were they still running-? </p><p>The hit-group were nowhere in sight, gone without leaving so much as a shadow behind, but… Usopp was still dragging him somewhere, running at full force.</p><p>“U-, Usopp, where are you going?”</p><p>Usopp glanced back, eyes full of unkempt desperation. “We’ve gotta catch them! They’re just around the corner, come on!” Sanji knew there was no way that was true. If not because of the fact that they were nowhere to be seen, then simply because he could tell that Usopp was lying through his teeth.</p><p>Sanji yanked his hand out of Usopp’s, receiving an odd look in turn, one that said “what are you doing? We have to hurry!” </p><p>“Usopp, they aren’t here. They escaped. What’s wrong with you?” </p><p>The soviet spy bit his lip and glared at the ground, foot tapping nervously. “B-, but-!”</p><p>Sanji shook his head sternly.</p><p>Usopp’s face relaxed into an unwilling smile. “Yeah, right. Sorry. I… I guess so.”</p><p>Sanji smiled and patted Usopp on the shoulder. </p><p>“No worries, we’ll find them.”</p><p>They didn’t.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Remember to comment, it really does mean a lot!!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. The Orbit, Evening</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Unlike last night when they’d walked through the entirety of East Berlin for hours at a time, this time, Usopp didn’t speak a word. No, he was as silent as a mouse, peeking into crowds of people and alleyways and between barren trees, hoping to catch a glimpse of the people they were supposed to find. </p><p>When Sanji had first met him, the first thing he noticed about Usopp was his confidence. He had that certain coolness, a light smile on his lips, that perfect assuredness that everything that could go right would go right. He would make sure of it. </p><p>As they had opened up to each other, this fact had… changed a bit. </p><p>Usopp was a normally calm man, he still had that relaxed sort of attitude, but… he could be taken off-guard. And if so, if he was taken off-guard, he was no less nervous than a child play-acting in front of their parents. This wolf may dress in sheep’s clothing, but beneath that grey hide, he was a mouse. </p><p>Seeing Usopp as he was now simply made Sanji even more assured that this was the case. As soon as he lost track of his target, he went into a fit. </p><p>And Sanji could do nothing but trail along after him, hoping he’d be fine.</p><p>“Th-, they have to be here, this-, this wasn’t according to the plan…” Usopp mumbled, but as soon as Sanji asked what he said he took back the statement. “Nothing is wrong, sheesh! Calm-, calm down!”</p><p>Yeah, right. “Look, Usopp, the sun is about to set. Let’s go back to the Going Merry and have dinner.” Usopp stared at him as if he’d suggested betraying the Motherland. “If you do… I’ll make you a real, actual Irish coffee.”</p><p>Usopp scratched his head. “Yeah, uh… alright. Not sure what an Irish coffee is, but… I’ll take it!” He smiled a conflicted smile. “Hm. Didn’t know you could cook.”</p><p>Sanji choked on his saliva. “I-, no-, just-,, I can only make drinks, I swear!”</p><p>Usopp shrugged. “Cool with me.”</p><p>Phew. Disaster averted. </p><p>Sanji had no clue where they were at the moment, but Usopp easily led them both back to the Going Merry, knowing the place like the back of his hand. </p><p>And there they were, sitting right back at that very same table, eating fancy food that Sanji had chosen for both of them. Except, Usopp wasn’t exactly eating. Considering that he should have been quite hungry at this point, it was odd to see him poke at his food like that, dismantling a beef medallion with a deep, soul-crushing sigh. Something was clearly wrong here, and if it didn’t change soon, Sanji would have to slap his friend across the face for daring to leave uneaten food on his plate. </p><p>“...We’ve gotta find them, or my superiors will have me flogged,” Usopp mumbled, impaling a salad leaf on his fork. Sanji was about to respond when he realized an odd little detail. </p><p>Usopp never did tell him how he found out where they were supposed to go today. </p><p>...Yes, Sanji could assume and imagine and surmise that there was some espionage involved, but the details were elusive. “How’d you know where those fellas were to meet this morning?” Sanji asked foolishly. </p><p>Usopp turned pale at the question. “Oh, um, that’s…” He stammered here and there, glancing off elsewhere while his lips twisted into a wry, uncertain smile. </p><p>This was the point that Sanji backed off the last time he asked. But this time, he wouldn’t take no for an answer.</p><p>“It’s… what?” Sanji asked, placing a sauce-dabbed piece of meat in his mouth. If he couldn’t talk, Usopp would have to carry the conversation without him. Through any means possible.</p><p>Usopp swallowed. “I… talked to someone. They told me where to go.” Sanji stared at him, chewing slowly. Forcing him to continue. “Yeah, I,, I had scouted things out beforehand so… so I knew who the kid was, but, but when I found him, he didn’t have the briefcase.” Sanji nodded. “-I… interrogated him. Just asked some standard questions, and then I got some standard answers. Simple stuff. So, uh… where’d you learn to make drinks?”</p><p>Sanji swallowed his over-chewed meat. “Interrogated… how?”</p><p>By the way Usopp jumped at the question, Sanji knew that wasn’t the answer he’d been searching for. “Y-, y’know…” he leaned in a little bit closer, “torture.”</p><p>Ah. Yeah. Okay. </p><p>A silent pause passed between them. </p><p>“-My mother taught me how to make drinks. Never was much good at it, but she drank every drop I made,” Sanji recited, noting how Usopp smiled warmly at him. </p><p>Then, a lightbulb went off in his head. </p><p>“-Wait,” Sanji continued, “how come you can’t do, uh, that with the others to find out where they’re supposed to meet next?”</p><p>Usopp scratched his head. “Yeah, uh, I kind of have no idea who those guys were. I might be able to find one of them if I spend all night searching, but the chances are really miniscule. They could be anywhere, doing anything, and the deal could go down night or day, so-”</p><p>“So, it’d be better with two pairs of eyes?” Sanji interjected, cupping his head in his hand. </p><p>Usopp stared at him for a moment. And then another moment. And yet another. “-No.”</p><p>“Yes.”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“Yuh-uh.”</p><p>“Nuh-uh! No way!”</p><p>“Hey, it’s my first mission! Shouldn’t you let me hang out in the shadows with you? Teach me the ropes?” Sanji argued, smirking slyly.</p><p>“Hrmm… wait. You said you were on a mission during the war! Are you-?” Usopp rubbed his cheek suspiciously, giving the suspicious Sanji a suspicious stare.</p><p>Sanji had to think for a moment. “Well, no, but yes. I was on a mission but not, uh… not with this division?”</p><p>Usopp stared blankly, cogs turning slowly. “Ohhh, okay, I gotcha. It can be hard to switch directorates, I feel ya on that one, heh.”</p><p>Phew, another bullet dodged. It didn’t seem like Usopp actually was any suspicious of Sanji, but it was still a bit exhilarating. In the end, this didn’t actually answer the original question. “So, I can come along?”</p><p>“What? No! Just-,”</p><p>Sanji held up a finger, quieting Usopp. “I’ll give you… a kiss.”</p><p>Usopp’s head caught on fire. His face whipped around, surveying the people around them with panic to see if any of them had heard what Sanji just said. Didn’t seem so, but you never know who might be listening. Usopp hunched his back, leaning in closer, holding his index finger in front of his lips in a shushing motion. </p><p>“Shh, dude, you can’t just-”</p><p>“I’ll do it. One free kissy on the lippy.”</p><p>Usopp’s blush grew deeper. “I-, I got one for free yesterday!” Usopp shout-whispered.</p><p>Sanji grinned and wiggled his finger. “Tsk tsk tsk. That was a free hand-out to get you hooked. This is now!”</p><p>Usopp’s head shook to and fro, eyebrow twitching irritatingly. He bit his lip. “O-, okay, but… but only tonight!”</p><p>A disbelieving grin manifested itself on Sanji’s lips. </p><p>Holy shit! It worked! He’d really been going out on a limb there, but… it worked! Somehow, he seduced a Soviet spy into bringing him along on a nightly stalk! Why, if Sanji had been proud over being undiscovered as a critic before, his pride at pulling off this foregin-diplomacy mission was ten times greater!</p><p>With newfound appreciation for his own wit, Sanji dug into his food, savouring every bite, not knowing he was being looked at more fondly than he might himself think. </p><p>Later that night, when the moon had returned with a vengeance, forcing darkness upon the occupied city, Sanji and Usopp both exited the hotel, one wearing enough clothes to keep warm even in the chilly autumn night, the other… not so. </p><p>Now Sanji knew why Usopp didn’t mind the cold, at least. </p><p>“Lesson one of spy-school! Blend in seamlessly with the crowd!” saying so, Usopp took his flat cap, the red one he’d been wearing all this time, and flipped it around so that the brim faced backwards. What the fu-, “I am now a cool kid. Tremble in my wake, peasant!”</p><p>“How-, how old are you?...” Sanji asked, already feeling mental exhaustion taking a hold of him. </p><p>Usopp stared at him blankly. “24. You?”</p><p>24. That was… younger than Sanji had expected, especially from a (“professional”) soviet spy. Shouldn’t agents be at least 30 or something? He was barely even an adult at that age! He was-, damn it, he was younger than Sanji, wasn’t he? How the hell-, no, don’t compare him to you, Sanji, you’re a damn well respected cook! Don’t doubt it for a second!</p><p>“I’m, uh,” the thought of lying flitted through Sanji’s head, but he shook it off, “26. Just last March.”</p><p>Usopp squinted. “That… that can’t be true. Dude. No.” A nod set the record straight. “-Whoa! I-, um, uh… you-... you may be my senior in terms of age, but I’ve been in this directorate for eight years! I bet I could do any mission you could a hundred times better! Which directorate did you even transfer from? The fifth main directorate?”</p><p>“Uh, yeah?” Sanji said, hoping it wasn’t anything bad.</p><p>Usopp smirked triumphantly. “I knew it! You always struck me as the ‘internal-affairs’ kinda guy. Heh. Bet you’ve never even been to London!”</p><p>“Have too! I’ve been anywhere you’ve ever been and one more!”</p><p>“Why, you-!” Usopp balled his fists and tapped his foot irritatingly. A smirk found its way onto Sanji’s face, knowing he’d finally gotten the upper hand. “-Whatever! Let’s just find these guys! And if you hold me back…!” Usopp made a slitting motion with his thumb over his throat, and although Sanji knew it was just a joke, he couldn’t help but feel just a tad bit threatened. </p><p>The night progressed about as well as one might have hoped. Usopp tried fruitlessly to teach Sanji the art of sneaking, staying out of sight, lock-picking, leaving no sign of entry… but he just wasn’t made for it. At some point, Usopp insisted that they infiltrate an abandoned house in one of the many parts of Berlin still left damaged and hollow after the several hundred air raids upon it. </p><p>But no matter how much Usopp coaxed Sanji, told him how to hold and use the various little lockpicks he kept in a folded kit (somewhere), he just couldn’t get a single door open. </p><p>In the end, Usopp, too, had to admit that it was just no good. Sanji wasn’t cut out for this sort of work. </p><p>“Ehh, it’s fine, I’ll just do this part in the meantime,” is what Usopp had said about it at the time, but if Sanji was to be a real honest-to-god spy (which he wasn’t), he’d need some rudimentary knowledge in the basics of the trade. It still baffled Sanji how Usopp could sneak around in a pair of hard-leather derbys. There had to be a limit to skill. </p><p>-Then again, skill without intelligence is worth as much as the economy without people to run it, so… Maybe he should just get it over with and tell Usopp the truth.</p><p>...Nah. </p><p>Usopp may not be too ruthless himself (towards Sanji, that is), but considering that this was the Soviet Union he was dealing with…</p><p>And so the late evening passed. When there was nothing to be found in the desolate areas of East Berlin, they moved onto the more populated parts, and when that didn’t yield any result, they simply walked around, happy to talk to each other. Eventually, they even found the Berlin wall, standing tall and oppressive. It was weird to know that just across that large structure, a much better city lay in rest. </p><p>They gave each other a glance, and decided to walk alongside the wall, that is, at a comfortable distance where a guard wouldn't mistake their existence for a threat. </p><p>A thought flitted through Sanji’s head. “-How was it?”</p><p>“Hm?”</p><p>“Fighting in the war. I don’t actually know much about it, so…” Sanji said, shrugging as he stuffed his hands into his pockets. Usopp’s eyes found his, and the look in them were… confused, mostly. Muddy as always, but… confused.</p><p>His lips tightened into a thin line and he turned away from Sanji to gaze up at the stars, a distant look in his eyes. “I wish I could say it was all a blur. Like, that it just happened, and I can’t remember it and that was it, but…” he gave a strained, wheezing laugh, “I’ve always had a good memory. Have you heard about the Sons of the Regiment? Orphanages where us kids would work for the state, doing reconnaissance and all of that. I was pretty good at it. Had a knack for places and things and how many people were there.”</p><p>Sanji took a drag of his cigarette, the wispy smoke escaping his lips. </p><p>“As it turns out, that was kind of just… just a way for us to get into the swing of things easier. I was drafted not soon after. I think I was sixteen at the time. Got sent right into Finland to reclaim what was ours or something. Now in hindsight, it was kinda funny, right? All this time we’ve been boasting about how no country could attack us in winter and win. And then we attacked Finland and this shit happened, hah!”</p><p>Usopp cackled briefly, at the stupidity of his government, at the stupidity of his people, at the stupidity of himself. It was a hoarse laugh, the kind you’d have after crying and screaming for too long. </p><p>“So… yeah. I did pretty well, I guess. I didn’t die or nothing. Didn’t lose a limb, either,” Usopp recalled. A brief silence passed before Usopp fished out his gun from… somewhere. Sometime, Sanji swore he’d get Usopp to explain how he did that. “She’s the only one I knew that survived. All of it. Had a few nicks and bumps here and there, but… she survived. Carrot didn’t. Neither did Onion or Pepper. And-, and Kaya…”</p><p>A few tears pooled in Usopp’s eyes, but he wiped them away before Sanji could notice them properly. </p><p>“Why…” Usopp turned to Sanji, “why are you still working for them?... After all they put you through?”</p><p>It was a weird question, really. Not something a spy would ask another spy. But it was something Sanji would Ask Usopp. Something he had to ask. </p><p>Usopp smiled a thin, cold smile. “-Isn’t much else I can do. I’m a damn good sharpshooter, and… and that’s it. I can’t cook, I can’t love, I can’t live… Without her, I am nothing.” He held the gun in trembling hands. </p><p>Sanji pursed his lips. He reached out, let his fingers fumble in the cold air, and clutched Usopp’s cold hands. The chill in the air was getting to him. Those hands trembled. The hands that wouldn’t tremble in the face of death, that would never hesitate to pull a trigger now trembled. A young lover in the grasp of a more experienced suitor. </p><p>He could say nothing. Words failed him not because he lacked the will to say them, but because nothing he could say would alleviate what Usopp had gone through, what his heart felt. </p><p>Instead, he acted.</p><p>It was simple, really. Just a hug. A simple locking of the limbs, taking one in another, clutching tightly until the air between the two was squeezed out, replaced with soft, loving flesh. A face burrowed itself in the nape of Sanji’s neck, and he suddenly felt that he knew this man, well and truly. He was barely even a man at all. What came before the war, what happened during the war and what happened now… it all defined him beyond scope. A life forged in war and snow and blood. </p><p>A muffled sob escaped Usopp, and all Sanji could do was hold him just a little closer. It was alright. Everything was alright. And if it wasn’t… Sanji vowed he’d make it alright. He’d get Usopp out of here. No more war, no more killing, no more USSR. They’d escape together. As lovers.</p><p>After a little while, Usopp dislodged himself from Sanji, and Sanji let it happen. They stared at each other, one man at another, and then Usopp broke out into a smile. A bright, true smile. </p><p>Sanji smiled back, relieved that this broken man could still smile. </p><p>At some point in their journey, it seems they’d returned to the large, greek-styled gate, what with the chariots and all. “Brandenburger Tor…” Usopp mumbled in what Sanji understood as perfect German. Not a surprising language for Usopp to know, but somehow, Sanji had never thought the dull-brained Usopp could possibly be a linguist. </p><p>Though, this did put a name on this place. Brandenburger Tor. Tor was square, wasn’t it? Then, that large monument should be the Brandenburger Gate. </p><p>For a moment, Usopp was quiet. Suspiciously quiet. </p><p>When Sanji glanced over to take a peek at exactly what Usopp was doing, he was met with a curious gaze and a curious smile. His eyes were clear. Those muddy, opaque waters had once again parted to reveal the glimmering, honest bottom, crowded with, at this moment…</p><p>Mischieviousness. </p><p>That very same emotion was in that little smirk of his as well. It set Sanji’s hair on edge. </p><p>Usopp glanced back to the gate, large and majestic and guarded, and back to Sanji. “Shhh… follow me,” he said, grinning toothily while Sanji’s heart sank. Oh no. Oh God no. He wasn’t-?</p><p>For all the stupid decisions Sanji had made in the past two days, this one might just take the cake. Even though Sanji followed Usopp pretty much back-to-back, he still felt like he could get a bullet in the head at any moment. He could swear it hadn’t been this guarded when he went in from West Berlin, but it might just be his new-found paranoia acting up. </p><p>There was a rhythm to it. Move a bit, stand completely still, wait for the guard to turn away or walk the other way, rinse and repeat until they came close enough to the gate to touch one of the many pristine white pillars holding up that big slab of stone and bronze. </p><p>But Usopp wasn’t done. </p><p>Sanji had barely even caught his breath when Usopp sneaked off in some other direction, waving for Sanji to follow. </p><p>This was so damn stupid. This would be his grave. </p><p>A ladder. That’s what Usopp had found. Perched right against the side of the gate, leading up to the top of the right wing. Almost inviting them to climb it. As it turns out, Sanji wouldn’t even have a chance to stop the manically giggling Usopp from climbing it, and could instead do nothing but curse and follow him as they scaled the monument, the wind growing harsher the higher up they came, whipping through his hair.</p><p>Their journey didn’t end atop the right wing though. No, there was another ladder, probably left there after ‘45, when the Battle of Berlin tore through the capital with ravaging claws. </p><p>This was never going to end. But seeing Usopp this childishly happy… maybe it would be better if it never did end. </p><p>And, finally, they were all the way up there. Standing atop the world, between freedom and oppression. The wind was biting cold, tearing into every limb Sanji had. He couldn’t have lit a cigarette if he so wanted to. Beside him stood Usopp, the largest smile Sanji had ever seen plastered across his dark face. </p><p>They sat down. Legs dangling over the edge, looking out over the pretty lights that speckled East Berlin like tiny hopeful stars. Hope was a rare thing to come across in this country, but here… here in the heart of disaster, here it was. Mirroring the stars up above. Moon peeking out of those dark clouds, Sanji let his intoxicated eyes fall on the man beside him, the man gazing out over the city with eyes like crystal.</p><p>The moon lit their faces, they looked at each other, and they both knew how the other’s heart ached. </p><p>They leaned in, and shared a promised kiss. </p><p>When Usopp leaned back out, the first thing he did was tuck a lock of springy black hair behind his ear. He looked back out over the city, frowned a strange, conflicted kind of frown, and then he looked back at Sanji. That look in his eyes. The second Sanji saw it, he could feel his heart skip a beat. </p><p>He smiled. “I love you, Sanji.” Not a hint of hesitation, not a sign of shame, not a trace of irony. His eyes were clear and bright, the moon reflected on a still lake. </p><p>Sanji’s eyes widened. He’d expected it. He’d wanted it, too, but when he heard it, he couldn’t help but feel stunned. Women had told him that a fair few times. Told him they’d do anything for him. Anything but stay with him. “I-, uh, you-,” he stumbled over his words, landmines buried in his mind, an embarrassed flush burning his face where he sat. </p><p>But Usopp didn’t judge. His face was cool, clear, calm. Awaiting an answer.</p><p>Sanji swallowed his broken words. Something here needed to be set straight. </p><p>“-Vinsmoke. It’s… it’s Sanji Vinsmoke.”</p><p>Usopp startled, and smiled. “I love you, Sanji Vinsmoke.”</p><p>“I… I love you too, Usopp,” Sanji confessed, his smile wobbling and nervous and true. </p><p>The wind caressed their faces, that cold cold wind that gnawed at bones and brought armies to their graves. But up there, together, it felt like a warm summer breeze.</p><p>Back in the hotel, back in bed, Sanji went to sleep, his chest full of roses and bumblebees and daisies. When he woke up two hours later, at 4 in the morning, he felt less drunk on the moon. To the average listener, that posh room might have been as silent as a coffin, but Sanji knew better. He’d learnt to recognize that almost-silent shuffle of feet, even more so, that hyper-fixated mumbling over everything and nothing.</p><p>Sanji dragged himself out of bed and headed towards where Usopp was pacing back and forth, mumbling about how they’ll never catch them and that the higher-ups will find out and take them out and this whole plan was foolish to begin with and-,</p><p>In his mumblings, Usopp had failed to notice Sanji stalking up from behind. Growing closer and nearer until he was close enough to just… hug him from behind. </p><p>The Soviet spy jumped about a foot into the air out of sheer surprise, but as soon as he realized who it was, he practically melted in his arms, allowing Sanji to give him a little peck on the neck. </p><p>“What’s wrong?”</p><p>“I-, uh-,, um… well, y’know how we never did find those guys?...If we don’t, we’ll, y’know… not be alright, and I… no matter what I try, I can’t close my eyes, I keep thinking what if they were supposed to meet now, maybe at some other restaurant, or-,,”</p><p>“Hey, hey. Worrying will do you no service here. The situation is as unknown to me as it is to you, and…” an idea struck Sanji, an odd, uncertain one that couldn’t possibly work, “I think I might know where they might meet next.”</p><p>Usopp flew out of Sanji’s arms, spinning around to face him, eyes wide and frantic and hopeful. “-R-, Really??”</p><p>Was he actually sure about this-? Well, no, but… It might make sense. The last two places the guys popped up at was the Beratie and the Orbit. Two of the restaurants on the list he received from his superiors, which they in turn received from Gin. It was a long-shot, and a damn stupid one at that, but…</p><p>“-It’s called the ‘All Blue”...”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>i am now working on an usopp x buggy the clown marine au love story and so help me god i will never escape my own mind</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. All Blue</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“-And you’re sure this is the place where they might meet-?” </p><p>Sanji glanced away. “Uh, yup.” When his reply didn’t get anything out of Usopp, he decided to continue. “It says so right on the tin. ‘All Blue.’”</p><p>“...Weird name, but okay,” Usopp said, stepping into the homely little establishment. Sanji followed closely behind. </p><p>Usopp wasn’t, well… alright. Forget being awake two hours before the decided time (“I’m just doing recon!”), he’d been about as skittery as a thieving racoon all day, spending every waking moment hopping from one foot to another, tightening his tie and fumbling with his fingers and tapping nervously on every surface he could get his hands on. </p><p>The only reason he didn’t drink another mug-full of whiskey this morning was because Sanji dissuaded him with an actual, honest-to-god cup of Irish coffee, as per his promise. Usopp had almost cried. </p><p>As it turns out, the Soviet spy had never once had a cup of coffee, relaying that “I think they eat them as a snack down at the office?” which might have been not about coffee as a drink, but instead coffee beans. Dry and roasted. Eaten like peanuts. Rightfully disgusted, Sanji had decided that spoiling this alcoholic man with good coffee was his moral obligation. </p><p>Per Usopp’s desires, they had chosen a stall in a corner of the All Blue, hard to see from the entrance and even harder to see from the outside. </p><p>All throughout breakfast, Usopp had been rapping the table with his fingers. He’d gotten the food down alright, but when nobody showed up around eight, his nervousness just stepped it up yet another notch.</p><p>“Y-y-you’re sure-? May-, maybe we should, like, I dunno, check every restaurant in East Berlin? Like-, you take the,, the, um, southern part, and I take the northern, and then we’ll-”</p><p>“Hey, hey! Take it easy, Usopp!” Sanji said, grabbing a hold of Usopp’s nervously trembling hand. It was warm and soft and nice. Usopp glanced wide-eyed between him and his hand, his dark hair bobbing adorably. “It’ll be fine. They’ll be here.”</p><p>Usopp swallowed. “I…” he broke out into a thin smile, “-guess you really are the senior of us, huh? I’m just-, I’m just a nervous wreck, aren’t I?”</p><p>A slap cracked across his face, knocking it to the right. “-Huh?...”</p><p>Their glances met. “Don’t you ever call yourself something like that. You’re not. And if I ever hear you saying something stupid again, I’ll find you and beat the shit out of you for saying something like that about the man I love.”</p><p>Usopp stared blankly, his dim eyes slowly shining up along with his now reddening cheeks. “I-” a fond smile brushed across his lips, “-thank you.”</p><p>Sanji grinned. “Anytime.”</p><p>The time passed quickly between them. An hour, another, yet another… brunch time came and went without any brunch, and then, it was lunch. Sanji wasn’t sure why they would be serving Belgian waffles for lunch, but he was happy to eat anything. That hole between eight and twelve loomed heavy in his stomach, and he was actually quite hungry. </p><p>But he could tell that Usopp was still as nervous as before, despite all the smiles and brief touches. He was obviously trying to put on a hard face and steel his heart, but the situation was getting to him, worse now than before. A quick glance underneath the table tattled on how Usopp’s leg was twitching and bouncing at sonic speeds, somehow making no sound even when his soles hit the ground. </p><p>And then, they entered. </p><p>The door swung open, timidly allowing the entrance of two quick-looking fellows, one of them carrying… a briefcase. It was them alright. Their shifty eyes glanced about, failing to notice their two observers. </p><p>The second they entered, Usopp buried his face in a nearby menu, hiding his dark face from them. Despite not being able to see the lower half of Usopp’s face, Sanji could tell he was grinning ear-to-ear. Just the sight of it made Sanji’s heart soar.</p><p>He took a bite of his barely-eaten Belgian waffle. Oh, boy, now this was quite something! Crispy, hazel edges that crunched softly, hiding a golden, cake-like inner part. Not something Sanji would usually eat, but it felt so right on his lips that he couldn’t help himself. </p><p>Out of the corner of his eye, Sanji noticed how the men sat down. </p><p>Sanji took another bite, letting the airy whipped cream conjoin with the browned butter and heavenly waffle. </p><p>The two men shared a glance, and stood up. “Already-?” Usopp breathed, putting the menu down and turning to Sanji. </p><p>Was there honey in this? Had they sweetened it with honey-? Marvellous! Truly an astonishi-,</p><p>“Sanji, come on, they’re leaving!” Usopp shout-whispered, glancing over his shoulder to watch as they left. </p><p>Sanji gave him an incredulous look. “I must finish this.” It was duty. This was… this was star-worthy! But he had to continue, he had to find out, he had to know if it was truly that good, if Gin had been right to include the All Blue on the list…</p><p>He had to know. </p><p>Usopp clicked his tongue, glanced at the recently-closed door and ran for it, a curse boiling under his breath. </p><p>Sanji didn’t watch him leave, didn’t see him slam the door behind him, and he certainly didn’t see the four bony men entering a mere five minutes after Usopp left.</p><p>Regret lingered on his tongue, bitterly sullying the sweet lunch food. He’d stayed true to his own wants and needs, his own personal aspirations, but… he hadn’t been true to Usopp. On the other hand, it wasn’t that bad, was it-? After all, despite what Usopp might think himself, Sanji was no spy. He couldn’t fire a gun or sneak without making a sound or pick a lock. </p><p>Usopp could do all that.</p><p>A strange thought occured to Sanji. The thought he liked the least right now was the thought of what he’d seen two days ago, that rotting pile of minced meat that Usopp had made. Those people had lost and Usopp had won, sure, but something didn’t sit quite right. They’d been riddled with holes, here and there and everywhere, some in the limbs some in the chest some in the head.</p><p>One would think a man whose skill was forged in war would be a bit more skilled with the gun.</p><p>...Well, it didn’t matter. What mattered now was this excellent Belgia-,</p><p>“Sir, please come with us.”</p><p>“-Huh?” Sanji looked up and found his table surrounded by a squadron of slim men, staring at him… oddly. “Sirs, I think I’d rather no-,”</p><p>“Bag ‘im,” said one of the men, and Sanji’s world went dark. </p><p>Time passed slowly. He could vaguely understand that he was being led outside. The waitress that had given him that sublime waffle talked to one of the men, saying how she hoped this would all end soon. The man agreed, and they all left. Sanji was shuffled into the back-seat of a car, two other people squeezed on either side of him. They drove in silence. </p><p>Even if Sanji had known Berlin by heart he wouldn’t have been able to guess where the hell they were headed. A turn here, a turn there, and then they stopped.</p><p>He was led out of the car, through a doorway, down a staircase (slowly, so he didn’t trip and fall), through winding halls and then into a final room. The air felt dry and choking, but he couldn’t tell where they were. </p><p>Finally, he was forced to sit on a chair, and promptly bound to it. </p><p>As far as Sanji could hear, at this point, a bunch of people entered the room, before the bag over his head was removed. He blinked a few times in the bright light before looking around. The source of the bright light was a strong, white electric light just above his head. The floor and ceiling were lined with silver tape, the kind that would light up if you shone a flashlight at it. The room itself seemed to be made of concrete, containing no windows or other decorations. </p><p>And, once again, he was surrounded by people. Men and women with sunken features and too-big, too-old clothes, glancing at each other anxiously.</p><p>Not exactly the image of any enemy Sanji had ever imagined having, but… here they were. They seemed… normal. Completely identical to any East-Berliner Sanji had ever seen.</p><p>One of them stepped forward, a little bigger than the others. “So, uh,” he wrung his hands, “you a spy?”</p><p>...How come this was the first time somebody had asked him this question? Sanji felt a sigh escape his lips. “-No, I’m not a spy.” The collected people share a few odd glances. “-I don’t know anything. I’m not aware of who you all are or what your plans are.”</p><p>The large man scratched his face. “...Right. Okay, uh, Manfred, will you go call on the boss?”</p><p>Another man, who Sanji could only assume was Manfred nodded broadly and stumbled out of the door-less entrance. Where the hell is this even? The hallway outside was dark, the doorway was easily big enough to fit three men side-by-side, and by the looks of it, the wall itself was a good three feet thick. Three feet of concrete. What kind of-,</p><p>A man entered. </p><p>A man Sanji recognized, with tired eyes and sunken cheeks and a stubble to rival any depraved sod who couldn’t get his hands on a razor. “-Gin!” Sanji cried, almost darting out of the chair only to remember he was bound to it. “What the hell are you doing here?? I-, will you please tell these brutes to untie me?”</p><p>Gin stared at Sanji for a moment before glancing at the large man who had called for him. He gave a nod towards Sanji and the large man lumbered over to their captive, untying him at once. </p><p>Sanji stood up, stretched his legs, and breathed a sigh of faint relief. </p><p>“Alright, Gin, you’ve got to tell me-”</p><p>“Sanji. You have to listen to me. East Berlin, no, East Germany as a whole can’t possibly function as it is, under these Russian warlords. What I’m about to ask of you might be impossible, foolish, even, but it’s all we can do. It’s our only possible hope.”</p><p>Sanji stared at him as if he’d said the moon was green. “-What. Gin, what the hell are you-”</p><p>Gin placed a hand on his mouth, but in a calm, almost friendly sort of way. “I pity you. Having to serve an MGB spy for days… He didn’t torture you, did he? Like he did Peter-?” That last name came out like a half-contained sob. He had to turn away, rubbing violently at his eyes before turning back. “-Sorry. He was a good kid, barely of age. He told us what we had to know, and then he just… Sanji, you must understand, your time in his iron grip is over. What you must do now is return to France.”</p><p>A lump formed in Sanji’s throat. </p><p>“You evade that Soviet devil, you get the hell out of East Berlin, you return to France, and then you have to, absolutely have to inform the state of what’s happening here. I can’t do it. The guards have my picture, they’ll see me coming from a thousand miles away. But you… they don’t know you. Unless that damned spy sent them your details already.”</p><p>Sanji raised his hands diplomatically. “Wait-, hold on, you-, by spy, do you mean, um, Usopp-?”</p><p>Gin cocked a brow. “-That his name? Good work figuring it out. Report it along with this information,” Gin grabbed a briefcase, the briefcase, and stuffed it into Sanji’s hands, “-I uncovered most of it myself. Get it there, and they’ll know what to do.”</p><p>“No, just-, be quiet for a moment!”</p><p>Gin’s mouth clamped shut. </p><p>“...What the hell are you saying? You’re a-, a what, a secret operative? Who are these people? Is this-, is this about that list you sent to headquarters?...” Sanji asked, trying his very best to put all these jagged puzzle-pieces together. </p><p>Gin shook his head. “Not a secret operative, no. A rebel leader.”</p><p>That was it. A piece of the puzzle fell into place and Sanji swivelled his head around to look at the people gathered in the room. Thin, tawny, starving. German citizens in desperate need for food and resources. That was the kind of people he and Usopp had been chasing for three days straight. The kind of people Usopp had killed. The kind of people Sanji had helped Usopp find. </p><p>All because he wanted to play-pretend at being a spy.</p><p>His heart sank. A cold fever blossomed across his pale, shivering body. </p><p>“If you wonder, yes, I did lead you into this, and for that, I am sorry. It was my only option. Those Soviet bastards wouldn’t allow me to send a single letter, not a single one, apart from what the Michelin company required of me. They couldn’t let France know I was an unofficial prisoner in here. In this walled city. I didn’t know who’d come, but I’m glad you did. Now, plea-,”</p><p>BANG</p><p>The sound of a gun firing exploded through wherever the hell they were, tearing through the concrete and making Sanji’s ears ring too familiarly. Someone had fired a gun. </p><p>And then another, and another. </p><p>Gunfire ripped through the building like a hundred falling bombshells.</p><p>Gin moved into role instantly. “-We’ve been discovered! Charge into the halls!” Gin barked at the assorted members. A few glances of fright were shared, and then they ran out, leaving Sanji and Gin alone in the room. “We’re in a damn bunker, how the fuck-”</p><p>And then Gin glanced at Sanji. Realization flashed through his eyes, but it was snuffed out as soon as it had entered, and he ended up simply shaking his head, rejecting his own thoughts. A shiver slit through Sanji, and he could do nothing but clench his jaw a bit tighter, molars grinding in fear and frustration. </p><p>There was a brief pause outside. </p><p>And then it began again. A bang, another bang, and then three more. In rapid succession. There was no pause for Sanji to exploit. One could have reasonably believed that there was a machine gun in there. Ratatata. So many people firing. Whoever was on the other end… whoever the attacker was, they were surely riddled with holes by now.</p><p>But he wasn’t.</p><p>The bangs slowed down. </p><p>One bang sounded, and one other bang quieted. One bang sounded, and there was a light thud. One bang, one dead. It felt methodical. Gunmen snuffed out. Bang bang bang. Until there was only one sound left.</p><p>It was quiet. So quiet Sanji could barely even register it. Had he not been listening to that sound for days. Days of listening to those footsteps. Moving slowly in the alley. Stepping softly through the streets. Pacing lightly, accompanied by murmurs. A spectre. </p><p>His face peeked out of the doorframe. </p><p>Dark and empty and staring. </p><p>Gin threw up his hands, pointed a gun at the face, and fired. Another bang, the second last bang Sanji would hear that day exploded in the small room. Time slowed down. Gin’s chest heaved. In that room, all Sanji could hear was Gin’s deep breaths and his own racing heartbeat. What happened next was almost too fast for Sanji to catch. </p><p>Gin raised his gun again, pointed the trembling firearm at the empty doorway, and then…</p><p>And then someone burst into the room, snatched the gun out of Gin’s hand, and brought him to his knees. </p><p>It happened so fast that all Sanji was aware of was the current situation. Gin on his knees, groaning and clutching his arm, while Usopp stood over him, the nuzzle of his oldest comrade burrowed snugly in Gin’s hair. Sanji could only stare wide-eyed as Gin gave a faint gasp of despair. He looked up. Gin’s haunted, despairing eyes grazed over Sanji, that old realization glinting in them again. But this time, Gin accepted it. </p><p>“He-, he used you! He knew we’d need to get to you, so-,, so he got to you first! All to get to me!” Gin croaked. Sanji’s mouth flicked open, to say something, a defence, an apology, a question,</p><p>And then…</p><p>Bang.</p><p>A pop.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>ö///ö</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. All Blue, Evening</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>And now, for the very last chapter! I hope the lot of you are excited, cuz I sure am!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Gin’s body clattered to the floor, his right arm twitching coldly. </p><p>He couldn’t feel himself fall. One second he was standing on shaking, rigid legs, and the next they gave away. The floor fell out from beneath him, and he was suddenly sitting on the ground, right next to Gin. Sanji felt his hand touch something wet. Something warm and wet and sticky that made his stomach turn upside down. It was so warm. Hot, almost burning, like a wound on the outside. </p><p>He didn’t need to look to see what it was. </p><p>His hand recoiled from the sensation, blood smearing and splattering and tainting the pristine concrete floor. His hand was dirty, too. Dirty dirty bloody. Wrong wrong. Terrible. </p><p>“GAH!!” Sanji gasped, tumbling away from the horrid thing that he used to know. He couldn’t stop breathing. His chest wouldn’t stop rising and he just couldn’t stop looking at it. Eyes dry and throat dry and hands wet. He stared down at them. The inside was outside. </p><p>The killer stepped closer. Stained tainted dirty body looming heavy above him. Sanji whimpered. </p><p>Usopp leaned down, one hand stretched closer than Sanji wanted, closer than he’d ever want it, the other still holding that accursed killing weapon. His empty hand, as steady and as sure as the moon itself reached down, down close to Sanji, and… and just to the side. </p><p>He grabbed the briefcase. Walked over to a table. Popped the lid open. Removed the papers inside, and set them on fire. Greedy as fires often are, the flames lapped at the papers until only ashes remained. Ashes of whatever Gin had needed France to see. Not like he needed anything anymore. </p><p>And then, when Usopp was sure that not a trace of ink could be read to the keenest of eyes, he turned to Sanji. </p><p>His eyes were dark, but not muddy. Clear, but not light. Translucent, only to show shadows of lies. His lips drew tight. </p><p>The gun was no longer in his hand. This did not intrigue Sanji, nor did it interest him. It simply made him more afraid. Usopp was skilled. He had always been skilled. Eight years as an active MGB agent. </p><p>No way he didn’t know who Sanji was. </p><p>No way he didn’t pretend everything.</p><p>No way he wouldn’t tie up the loose ends. </p><p>“S-, stay back!” Sanji howled, stumbling futilly to try and get back on his feet, to run, to hide, to get anywhere but this. But he couldn’t. His blood-smeared hands couldn’t grab a hold of the flood, and his stale, unwilling legs would do nothing but shake and shiver. “-Please!...”</p><p>He stopped. Usopp stopped. Stood there, lanky and awkward in his boyish outfit. Those eyes of his, large and pretty and sharp surveyed Sanji where he was, sat upon the floor, chest heaving as quickly and shallowly as a small rabbit, cowering where he was. </p><p>Usopp bit his lip. “It’s alright,” he mumbled. “It’s okay.”</p><p>Before Sanji could process what Usopp had said, he leaned down, both arms reaching out towards Sanji, who twitched at the suddenly approaching limbs. The next second, Usopp had taken both of Sanji’s hands in his and pulled him to his feet. There, Sanji stood, dry eyes blinking slowly. </p><p>But Usopp didn’t let go of his hand just yet. No, he continued dragging him, stepping over Gin’s body and outside into the hallways.</p><p>Out of weakness and nothing but weakness, Sanji let himself be guided outside. </p><p>To say the hallway was littered with bodies would have been an understatement. </p><p>Men and women laid in clutters, draped over each other, pools of collected blood forming beneath them. It looked nothing like what Sanji had seen in the alley. The alley had been… sloppy, unprofessional. This, however? This was the very opposite. </p><p>Every single body had two holes in them. One between the eyebrows, and one… no, on closer inspection, there were two shots in the chest. The bullets were simply so close together that they might as well have been a single hole. This was the case regarding every former rebel in there. One in the head, two in the heart. </p><p>Disgustingly professional. </p><p>Then… had it been an act-? That whole scene in the alley? Had Usopp planned to make it look so unprofessional-? But, but why? Was it to make Sanji drop his guard? Falsely believe that Usopp was a fool, when he should have been as feared as any MGB spy should be-?</p><p>Sanji felt his grip tighten, knuckles turning white. </p><p>If that was the case, if that was a lie, together with his whole act in the Beratie (it was so obvious; if Usopp had expected a partner, why had nobody but Sanji and the rebels appeared?), what else had been a lie? The dinner? His sudden “disappearance”? Not knowing where the rebels would appear-?</p><p>Had even their love been a lie?...</p><p>And what of Usopp’s story? The pretty things he said about his life before all this? The uniform could easily have been planted, a gun can be scratched up on purpose, all those medals could be fakes. </p><p>Sanji could feel tears welling up in his eyes. He’d been so foolish. A foolish fool who let himself be fooled. </p><p>And his mistake cost the lives of so many. </p><p>Suddenly, they were outside. The sun peeked just over the horizon. It was sun-down already. While Sanji was being dragged further and further along, he couldn’t help but feel his despair deepen, throat choked up with unwept tears and regrets. </p><p>“Please… talk to me,” Sanji croaked, his voice as hoarse and weak as a dying toad. </p><p>All he got in return was a look. A meek, fleeting glance back at him that told him exactly nothing. </p><p>Finally, after running for so long, they came to a slow, uncertain stop, far away from that bunker Usopp had found him in. No, Usopp hadn’t found him there, he’d used him as bait. He let him be kidnapped. Followed him all that way. Just to succeed in his damn mission. </p><p>Sanji grit his teeth. “Usopp, plea-,”</p><p>He was silenced by a forceful, violent kiss. Sanji’s eyes widened in disbelief and he shoved off his potent lover, who stumbled a bit before regaining his balance. “What the HELL are you DOING?!?” Sanji roared, face twisting in indignation and shame. </p><p>His eyes were so clear. “I-, I love you? Um, I thought…” He wrung his hands, shrinking back into the alley, hunching his back amidst the rubbish-bins. Sanji hated how clear and true his eyes were. “I-, I wanted to calm you down, ‘cuz you seemed really, like, spooked, so-”</p><p>“Shut up. Be quiet. Let me-, let me think for one fucking second.”</p><p>Usopp zipped it. </p><p>“Tell me something,” he was drunk on the little power he held over this man and he knew it, “-was it true? What Gin said.”</p><p>“Wh-,”</p><p>“That you used me,” Sanji hissed, “used me and fooled me and everything in between. To complete a mission for the USSR.”</p><p>Usopp bit his lip, and glanced away. Those clear eyes of his looked elsewhere. </p><p>“-Was-, was any of it true-? What we had? Or was it just another lie?...” Sanji scowled, unsurprised when his vision turned blurry and tears collected in his eyes. Worst of all, this was when Usopp chose to take a step closer, looking perfectly concerned. Sanji slapped his hand away. “Answer the damn question!”</p><p>Usopp’s face twisted in shame. “I… I was true to-, to you? Not-, not maybe in the start, but…” his eyes grow distant and warm and fond, “but to you, I was true.”</p><p>“And the military?” Sanji asked, his suspicions being confirmed with every word Usopp said. “Was anything you said about yourself true?!”</p><p>Usopp trembled, a spectre passing through his eyes. “It-, it was-,,”</p><p>Sanji growled. “Sure. As true as your ‘love’ for me. Hell, I bet Usopp isn’t even your real name! But you knew my name from the start, didn’t you? The Vinsmoke part, too. Just another name on a list they gave you. Did you stalk me before we met? Follow me everywhere I went?”</p><p>He took Usopp’s silence as a yes.</p><p>“I… I should have figured. Too good to be true. And I just let you lead me on.” Sanji scoffed, his face twisting into a grimace. “I’m surprised you haven’t…”</p><p>His eyes darted over Usopp, vision blurring once more. “-Disposed of me yet.”</p><p>The hiss of a snake. That’s how that last, whispering part came out. </p><p>Usopp didn’t answer. He was quiet. Quiet as death itself. Body petrified into cold stone, eyes frozen over in anguish. Sanji let his features fall into an unwilling glower. He was overwhelmed, and all he could do was speak. He couldn’t have ran if he’d tried. Couldn’t have called for help.</p><p>Usopp moved. </p><p>Rigid as an overgrown skeleton, he grabbed his gun. </p><p>That old friend, his only surviving comrade, the one thing that had survived as he had. Littered with nicks and grooves and old scars in its metal flesh that would never heal. Cold and dead, living only when its trigger was pulled, briefly filling its chest and throat and lungs with fire and death. It was heavy in Usopp’s loose grip.</p><p>Sanji’s breath hitched. He saw it. And he knew what it meant.</p><p>Images flashed through his mind. Bodies littering a rat-infested alleyway. Bodies littering a hallway. One in the head, two in the heart. A soldier of the Motherland never failed to complete Her orders. He bit his tongue. He didn’t want to die. Never had, never would. This brief affair with death had not been one he had enjoyed. A tremble shot through his body like live electric wires and he went cold. </p><p>His trembling eyes tried frantically to grab a hold of Usopp’s eyes, but he found them vacant. Elsewhere. Buried in a time that history would not soon forget. </p><p>Their eyes met. Blank and hazy. Shadows flickering and dancing like frozen fire in his eyes. </p><p>Usopp raised the gun. </p><p>Sanji stared. His heart stopped. Usopp met his trembling gaze.</p><p>And then, he threw it to the ground.</p><p>The old firearm clattered to the floor, metal screeching at the rough treatment. But it could barely even give even a whimper before Usopp unceremoniously stepped upon it, grinding his sole into the soft metal, rending it into small, base components. Bereft of history and personal value. A life lost.</p><p>Panting, Usopp stared back up at the confused Sanji, face twisting into anger and regret. “-It was true. All of it. All of those-, those years fighting and killing and murdering the wrong people for the wrong reasons, they… they happened.” He looked down at that old trusted comrade, now but a battered heap of scrap metal. “And-, and I wish it hadn’t. I wish I’d never become a Son of the Regiment, I wish I’d never joined the war and I wish I’d never become an MGB operative, but… but I don’t regret meeting you.”</p><p>It’s true. Sanji could tell. </p><p>Somehow, there had been a level of comfort in thinking it had all been a sham. Thinking that Usopp had been a through-and-through bad guy that had manipulated him and lied and killed would have been so much easier to accept than the fact that Usopp was a terrible person who loved him. Even worse, that Sanji loved him back. </p><p>This was a greater sin, greater than loving an evil man. An evil man he could run from and still be virtuous. But… this?...</p><p>Sanji pursed his lips. “You… you need help.”</p><p>Usopp gave him a desperate look. </p><p>A pause passed between them. </p><p>Sanji smiled warmly. A silent vow passed through his mind on cotton wings. “-I’ll be that help.”</p><p>Usopp’s eyes grew wide, until, finally… heavy tears fell. Tears containing the pain of so many years. Tears containing just the tiniest sliver of love. Deep, insurmountable love. </p><p>He threw himself at Sanji, wrapping his arms around his midsection, burying his face in his chest. Although a bit surprised by the sudden turn-around, Sanji let his hands encompass Usopp in an embrace. He’d needed that. Not just Usopp, but Sanji, too. These days had been… hard. But Usopp made it better. So much better.</p><p>Slowly, almost noticeably, Usopp crept up Sanji’s chest, rising until they stood face to face. A little grin settled snugly on his face, and then he leaned in. Sanji kissed him back. </p><p>They smiled at each other. It was alright. Everything was alright. </p><p>They’d put this behind them. Both Usopp’s life and Sanji’s. Spies and governments could go to hell for all they cared. </p><p>When they reached Brandenburger Tor for the third time, they didn’t even stop to wonder if what they were doing was right or wrong or foolish or wise. They simply stepped up to the gate, Usopp fished an official MGB badge out of somewhere, and once they passed through that large, beautiful monument, he threw it away. </p><p>It was all over now. </p><p>They’d live together. Elsewhere.</p><p>As Lovers.  </p><p> </p><p>~ The End ~</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>And there it is. I hope you enjoyed it, and, well, if you read it this far, I'm pretty sure you enjoyed it?... And, um, if you did! Make sure to comment! Let me know what you thought and what you liked and I'll be very very happy.</p><p>Yes.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>